Heaven doesn't seem far away anymore
by her ocean eyes
Summary: Modern World AU. Emma Nolan is in love with Killian Jones. Killian Jones is in love with Emma Nolan. There's just one problem, he's a priest-to-be and they can never be. Lieutenant Duckling. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

_(Yep, I'm jumping on the priest!Killian train, but not the way you might think.)_

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**i. why feels something so right doing the wrong thing?**

"Another word for red? Seven letters, last one's a "t"?"

She doesn't even think about it, just turns her head towards the young man and opens her mouth.

"Scarlet," she says and his head snaps up.

He wears a wide smile on his handsome face and Emma can't help but blush when her green eyes meet his incredibly blue ones (she thinks that maybe her heart skips a beat too but she ignores this as well as she can, he's a priest in training for God's sake- or not for God's but for heavens and UGH-).

"Nolan, you're a genius!" he exclaims and Emma lets out a light hearted laugh, brushing past him and swatting him softly with her cleaning rag.

"I know I'm awesome, you don't have to tell me, preacher boy," she grins while she moves to the next desk to wipe it clean off the spilled cocoa Roland has left behind when the major's boyfriend and his son visited the diner about half an hour ago.

Emma doesn't have to look back at him to know that his gaze is still fixed on her, she can practically _feel_ his eyes on her and she can't help the shiver that runs down her spine nor the goose bumps that form on her skin.

She continues to wipe the table for another few moments before the door to the kitchen swings open and Mrs. Lucas steps into the room, staring at the both of them for a moment before she clears her throat.

"We're closed," the old woman states, an amused smile on her lips.

"I'll be on my merry way the second I finish this bloo-sorry, crossword puzzle," the priest in training says and Emma turns around and looks over his shoulder, leaning a little bit closer than she needs to, breathing him in briefly - and _damn him_, he smells good too.

"Word's vessel," she whispers and he actually jumps before he turns his head towards her.

Only when his breath dances over her lips she realizes how much she has leaned forward and for the briefest of moments she just stares into his eyes, unable to look away from him - that is until Granny clears her throat and Emma jerks away as if he's fire and she just got burned.

"You're gonna close the diner as soon as the priest-to-be is done with his puzzle, Miss Nolan," the patron tells them and if Emma didn't know better she would have thought that Mrs. Lucas actually _winked_ at her.

"Yes, ma'am," Emma replies, saluting almost mockingly, before she adjusted her pink skirt and white blouse, picking up the cleaning rag again.

Granny leaves the diner and another few silent minutes pass by in which neither of them say a word. It's not uncomfortable though, it's rather pleasant and the only noises to be heard are Emma cleaning the tables and the scratching of his pen the paper.

She finishes the last table and looks up and back at Killian, only to find him staring at her. She can feel her heart stutter in her chest and there are butterflies in her belly and a blush on her cheeks as she slowly moves towards his table.

His eyes never leave hers as she moves towards him and only when she stops in front of the booth he sits in he looks down at his crossword puzzle again.

"Another word for wits. Eight letters," he finally says.

She's probably just imagining things but she thinks he sounds slightly breathless and she lets out a rather shaky breath herself before she unties the knot that keeps her apron in place and places it on the table before she slides into the booth next to him.

"Brains?" she asks with a frown and he laughs at her.

Not in a mean kind of way though, he laughs at her in a way that makes her all giddy and happy but at the same time she feels a little bit stupid because _eight_ letters and she just realized _brains_ only got six and- she's blushing again.

"Seems like your wits let you down this time, Nolan," he chuckles and she shoves him in the side.

"Shut up, Jones, you don't know the solution either."

He shifts his weight and leans a little bit towards her, his proximity causing her heart rate to pick up and she swallows almost subconsciously leaning into him too.

"Actually I do," he whispers conspiratorially and she turns her head, a small smile playing across her lips.

"And what's it, pray tell?" she prompts.

He leans even closer and when she's finally able to look away from his lips and to his eyes she finds him staring down at her mouth but the instance he realizes she has caught him staring he quickly gazes back into her eyes again, a faint blush tainting his cheeks pink.

"Word's gumption," he murmurs and the way he says it, it sounds downright _sinful_ and that should be forbidden because in about three years he's going to be Father Jones, a _priest_ and he definitely _shouldn't _sound like that.

There's a knot in her stomach - half pleasant, half frustrating - and it only tightens when he looks at her like _that_, his blue eyes dark, stormy and cloudy and if he would have been _any_ other guy she would be convinced that he's _flirting_ with her but that can't be the case.

_Priests_ don't flirt. -Except, he isn't a priest, _yet_.

"Then why aren't you writing it down?" she asks, looking up at him through her eyelashes, her heart racing in her chest.

The things he does to her. She never asked to feel that way about him but here she is, all butterflies and sweaty hands and damn her, _she really likes him_.

"I'm rather enjoying the view," he tells her softly and her heart leaps in her chest, before it start to beat as quickly as a hummingbird's.

There's no denying it this time, he _is_ flirting with her and she doesn't know what to do about it - or rather how to react responsibly because she certainly shouldn't flirt back but there are those damn butterflies again and her racing heart and she can't help it. She tilts her head up, feels some strands of his messy black hair brushing over her forehead and suddenly her throat is dry and the knot in her stomach tightens and there is _heat_ pooling between her legs and _god_, _he looks so incredibly handsome_ and she _really, really_ likes him so when he angles his head down she meets him halfway.

At first his touch is nothing more than a tentative brush of his lips over hers but then she applies a little bit more pressure and he follows suit, one of his hands moves to her cheek, cupping it, his thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek and she can't help but crave for more as his lips move against hers, her hands curling around his neck, fingers threading through the dark mop of his hair, pulling him closer.

His other hand finds its way to her hip, gripping her tightly - almost too tightly, there probably would be bruises tomorrow, reminding her that _this_ - what was happening right now - was _real_, that this isn't another one of her dreams - and she pushes one of her legs over his lap, shifting her weight until she's straddling him, his hands moving to her hips, then to her back and he pulls her closer while her hands roam over his chest.

A soft whimper escapes her throat when he sucks her lower lip into his mouth, his tongue tracing its sensitive skin and her hands curl into his shirt as she pulls him closer, _closer, always closer_.

She's done this with one or two guys before, during high school, but it never felt like _this_ it never felt so _right_ while it was so _wrong_ and her body reacts on its own, her hips grinding into his, another soft, needy noise escaping her throat.

The next thing she knows is that her back is pressed into the soft leather cushion of the booth and that he is hovering above her, his lips pressed to the corner of her mouth, moving along her jaw line to her throat, lips nipping, one of his hand sliding up her leg, to her knee and then down again, only this time there is no fabric covering her leg and his hand brushes over her bare thigh and she moans quietly, arching into him.

Her hands fly to his neck and she pulls his head back to her mouth again, lips crushing into his as she lets his hand inch higher and higher until it reaches the seam of her panties and he pulls away from her, staring at her until she opens her eyes and looks up at him.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he breathes.

This is _so_ wrong, on so many levels. It's ethically wrong, morally wrong but she doesn't _care_ because he is all she wants right now, all she needs. But still…

"_We_ shouldn't be doing this," she corrects and he pulls further away from her.

"We should stop," he says and she nods.

"We should," she agrees.

He moves to fully pull away from her, sitting back up and she follows him, lips still only a few inches away.

"But I don't want to," he murmurs before he surges forward again, lips pressing into hers and she wraps her arms around him almost immediately, unable to stay away.

"Me neither," she breathes into his mouth before she parts her lips, letting his tongue slip inside her mouth.

She lets herself sink back into the cushions, one hand on his neck, the other on his back and she arches into him, her hips rolling against his and it feels so very _good_ and her fingers fly to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling them open a little bit awkwardly but he doesn't mind, too busy to slip his hands beneath her blouse and she actually mewls when his large, cool fingers brush over her stomach, inching higher until they trace the outline of her bra.

He's about to slide his hand past the bra wire and onto her skin but the ringtone of her cell phone interrupts them before they can get any further. He stops kissing her, pulling away from her again as she fumbles for her phone and then takes the call.

"_Emma_?"

It's her father.

She looks up at Killian, her eyes growing wide when reality finally comes crashing down on her like a tidal wave. It seems to hit him pretty much at the same time because he pulls away, helping her to sit up as he gets out of the booth and tries - and fails - to straighten the wrinkles in his shirt.

She watches him walk towards the bathroom, the knot in her stomach tightening once more when she realizes _why_ he walks so funny - because he hasn't been unaffected, because he wants her too, probably just as much as she wants him.

"Hey dad," she replies, trying to steady her labored breathing.

"_Where are you? I thought your shift was over half an hour ago? Your mom and I are getting worried_," David Nolan says and Emma grimaces.

"I'll be there in a minute, Killian just stayed a little bit longer but I'll be on my way any minute now."

Her voice doesn't waver. It's calm and she realizes that there is no reason why _anyone_ should be worried about the deputy's daughter and the priest in training staying alone at the diner after closing time - people know they are good friends, they are "kids" (though she is nine-teen and he is twenty-three) and nothing will ever happen between them. At least that's the common belief, she had believed it herself even though she, well, has a crush on him.

Emma would have never thought that those feelings are mutual but apparently they are.

Killian returns from the bathroom, his shirt all buttoned-up and straightened, his cheeks still rosy, lips still a little bit kiss-swollen and she decides she definitely has to check on herself before she leaves the diner and goes back home. So she hastily gets up from her seat too, her cell phone still pressed to her ear.

"_Good. When you're not home in a quarter hour I'll be sending Graham after you_."

She laughs at that while she passes Killian, looking up at him and meeting his eyes, lingering for a few stuttering heartbeats before she moves past him, knowing that this is probably the last time she sees him that evening.

"Don't worry, dad, I'll be there," she promises.

"_See you in fifteen_."

She hangs up on David Nolan and faces herself in the mirror. Her hair is tousled, her lips red and kiss-swollen, her cheeks flushed and she looks debauched, like someone who would fall in love with a soon-to-be-priest and then simply takes what she wants.

But she isn't like that, she's _good_ and this was a mistake and she regrets it but at the same time she doesn't because being that close to him was everything she ever wanted and more and if she had a crush on Killian Jones before, _now_ she's definitely head over heels in love with him.

When she returns from the bathroom he is still there, waiting for her.

"I thought you would have gone back to the church already," she states and he chuckles at that.

"I don't live in the church, you know, I have a flat," he smirks and she laughs quietly.

"No, you don't. You live in the church and sleep on the altar," she mocks him while they move towards the exit.

"Oh right, I'm the offering, I forgot," he teases her back and relief floods her because she has expected awkwardness and now she gets this, the teasing, the banter, everything is back to normal, as if this whole thing never happened.

"I thought sacrifices were abolished," she frowns mockingly.

He opens the door for her and she steps through, locking it behind the both of them.

"They are, since Abraham was willing to sacrifice Isaac and God said "no" in Genesis 22," Killian smirks and she looks up at him, laughter dancing in her eyes.

"You're such a nerd," she grins, he leans down to her until his breath dances over her lips again and her heart skips another beat - probably something she should get used to around him.

"Just a priest in training," he says with a tilt of his head, his hand coming up to cup her face. "It's like learning to drive, before your exam you know _everything_."

She leans into his touch, her hand coming up to cover his but instead of lingering she pulls it down, her fingers caressing the back of his hand briefly before letting go.

"Killian, this is wrong," she murmurs.

He bites his lower lip and she swallows, her tongue quickly wetting her lips, remembering the feeling of his lips pressed against hers. Out of the corners of her eyes she sees him reaching out for her but before he can touch her he shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants.

"I know," he replies with a sigh and she can't help but think that he wants to add something else but he doesn't.

But even though he doesn't say anything she can guess what he thinks.

_Why feels something so right doing the wrong thing?_

She doesn't have an answer to that.

And neither does he.

"Good night, Emma," he murmurs and she nods, a small smile on her face.

"Good night, _Killian_," she replies, letting his name fall from her lips and watching him watch her mouth before he looks briefly into her eyes again and then turns around.

As she watches him go she feels his lips on hers again and when she closes her eyes that night she tastes him on her tongue and she just knows it's not something she will forget anytime soon.

And she really hopes he won't either.


	2. Chapter 2

_(Here's the second __to last__ part. It's getting a bit steamy and __**yes**__ there is a confessional booth involved but not the way some of you may think. __Also I really hope I don't offend anyone__._

_And thanks to the guest who pointed out that it's called a seminarian and not priest in training – I've been looking for this word but couldn't find it but because of repetition I will still vary the nouns describing Killian [priest-to-be, man of god, seminarian but __**no**__ priest in training anymore, hope that's okay].)_

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**ii. it's only because I'm yours, body and soul**

Emma tries to forget the way Killian has kissed her but even two months after _the incident_ she can still feel his lips on hers, can still taste him on her tongue.

After the daze he has left her in after that evening she became aware of the consequences of that kiss (or well, _kisses_) rather quickly.

She's in love with a man of god and he has some kind of feelings for her too, but they are _friends_, she _knows_ why he is devoted to god - knows about the accident he and his brother almost died in and that _this_ is why Killian believes in god and wants to become a priest. She could _never_ take that away from him, it's what he lives for - or at least he thinks so and she will never question him on this.

So she does the only thing she can and tries to stay away from him without withdrawing from him.

He still visits the diner, she still helps him solve his crossword puzzles and they still banter but when the Granny's closes she throws him out instead of staying with him. She tries to spend as little time as possible with him alone because whenever their eyes meet, whenever their hands brush when he takes his cup of coffee from her she can't help but want more.

She craves for his touch, for his very presence but she thinks that if they spend time together she's going to ruin him and she likes him too much to do that to him.

It's funny that she misses him even though she sees him nearly every day. But it's not the same. The incident changed so much between them, she doesn't look at him the same way anymore and he certainly changed the way he looks at her too.

When she looks at him she watches how his eyes grow darker, how something crosses his features that she feels in her very soul, she sees desire and yearning, longing and craving - and she sees the conflict in his too blue eyes.

His heart belongs to god but whenever he looks like _that_ she thinks that maybe there is a part of his heart that also belongs to her.

She wants to take it but she knows she can't, she _shouldn't_ because it's wrong and she shouldn't want him like that but she _does_ because he is everything she ever wanted, he's sweet and sensible, funny and smart and he understands her, her longing for the great big world, her longing to be _more_ than just this small town girl from Storybrooke.

She made a decision about a week ago, a decision that is for the best for both of them and now she only has to tell him about it. And not just that she'll move to Boston in two days.

Emma knows she can never have him but even though her moral tells her it's wrong she needs him to know. He probably already does, but she needs to _tell _him - maybe then she is able to let go of him (she won't be able to, because he is _hers_ and she is _his_ and it's so stupid, nothing more than wishful thinking but she can't help but feel this way).

With a nervous sigh Emma straightens her summer dress and rises from the pew, passing Dr. Archie Hopper who just left the confessional.

Emma quickly glances over her shoulder, assuring herself that she is the last one who wants to make a confession. She swallows hard, then she enters the confession booth and takes a seat.

Darkness envelops her and it takes a few seconds until her eyes get used to it. Her gaze is fixed on the exit but out of the corner of her eye she can see the partition and the figure looming behind it.

She knows it's _him_ - actually she made sure that it's him because he is the one she needs to talk to and she really doesn't need to burden his _brother_ - Father Liam Jones - with her feelings for Killian.

Emma clears her throat, makes the sign of the cross and opens her mouth.

"Bless me father for I have sinned, it's been… like two years since my last confession and since then-"

"Emma?" he interrupts her, sounding as if his breath just got sucked right out of his lungs.

She swallows again, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. He knows it's her too and now she only has two options. Leave or go through with it.

"I fell in love with a man I shouldn't have fallen in love with," she breathes out quickly and by the way his breath hitches she knows he's heard her.

Some quiet seconds pass by in which they both try to collect their thoughts.

"Why shouldn't you be in love with him?" he finally asks and she bites her button lip, running one of her hands through her hair.

_Now or never_.

"Because you're gonna be a priest and I shouldn't love you," she says and she is surprised when her voice is steady and she doesn't stutter.

He is silent for some time and when he opens his mouth again at first there's no sound coming out.

"Me?" he finally croaks out and she chuckles breathlessly, her hand comes up to the partition, fingers threading through the grid.

She hears him shift his weight and then his fingers are brushing over hers and she can feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"Of course it's you," she sighs. "I thought you know that."

The partition dips as he leans his forehead against the grid and she mimics his movements, leaning her forehead against his, her eyes falling shut.

"I thought you didn't- weren't- After, _you know_…"

Her other hand comes up too, her fingers brushing over his cheek through the grid.

"I didn't- I just- I- I wanted to do the right thing," she murmurs and he sighs.

"I thought you considered our… _dalliance_ a mistake."

She laughs soundlessly, _humorlessly_.

"It was a mistake. It's _wrong_."

"Then why did it feel so right to be with you? Why do I feel that way for you if it's _wrong_?"

She shakes her head, a sad smile on her lips.

"We're only human," she says quietly, opening her eyes and peering up at him.

His eyes are dark in the small, gloomy room of the confessional and when they lock with hers she thinks they grow even darker for one second.

"We need to talk," he finally says and she leans back, furrowing her brows.

"Aren't we talking right now?"

"Emma. I mean _not_ in here, I need to see your face."

"But you a-"

"I need to _touch _you," he cuts her off and she chokes on air, her heart leaping in her chest. "Meet me in the sacristy in five, _please_."

She listens as he gets up and exits the confessional, leaving her behind, her heart fluttering in her chest, her hands sweaty and her body trembling.

She follows him merely a few seconds later, her steps resounding loudly on the church's wooden floor.

Emma pushes the door to the sacristy open, her eyes quickly taking in the small room - on the right side of the room there is a table with golden candle sticks and some other stuff that is usually used during services, behind that there are the robes of the altar servers, on the left there is some kind of altar, not one of the large ones like in the church itself but it still fills most of the left side of the room - and then settle on the person standing in front of the altar who currently takes off the white robe he's wearing.

She lets the door fall shut behind her soundly and Killian immediately looks up at her.

"Lock the door," he orders brusquely.

His tone sends shivers down Emma's spine and she turns around, her eyes immediately locating the key in the lock and she turns it, the door locking with a click.

There are footsteps coming closer and she remains like that, facing the door until she can feel his presence right behind her, his breath dancing over the exposed skin of her shoulders.

"Emma," he whispers and she spins around, her eyes fixing on his and _god_, he is so close, she can feel his body heat radiating off of him and the next thing she knows is she has her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips are pressed against his.

He pushes them forward, until her back is pressed against the door, his hands on her hips and he kisses her so fiercely that she can't help but whimper against his lips.

When his tongue traces her lower lip she opens her mouth, his tongue immediately sliding in to taste her.

This is so different from the last time they kissed but at the same time it is the same, the same passion, the same raw need and she replies with equal fervor, her lips melting into his, teeth scraping over teeth, over lips, biting, nipping, tugging, they are burning, consuming, _devouring_.

When he breaks away from the kiss and presses his forehead to hers they are both gasping for air.

"Killian-" she starts but he interrupts her by pressing his lips to hers once more.

"I love you, Emma. I have for so long," he breathes into her mouth and she swallows hard, one of her hands moving from his neck to his cheek, caressing it tenderly.

"I love you too," she finally admits, the words branded in her very soul now spilling freely from her lips and for the first time in about three months she feels _free_.

His mouth crashes down on hers again but this time she doesn't let him corner her, this time she pushes him back into the room and he lets her. She only stops pushing him when his back hits the altar, then her hands fly to his collar, undoing the first button and pulling the white clerical collar away, throwing it to the ground without a second of hesitation. Then her fingers quickly undo the remaining buttons of his shirt until she brushes it off of his shoulders, letting it join the collar on the floor.

His hands are on her back but then they move lower, cupping her backside and pressing her hips into his. His lips break away from hers again and his mouth moves from her lips to her neck, sucking, biting, cherishing her soft skin.

She moans when his mouth finds a particularly sensitive spot and he immediately picks up on it, sucking on that spot once more and she threads the fingers of one of her hands through his hair, the other one roaming over his bare back.

"Killian," she whimpers and he looks up at her again, his pupils dilated, his cheeks rosy, but there is something in his eyes that makes her heart stop - it's doubt.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks and she hastily shakes her head.

"No. No, I don't. I just want to be with you."

He groans, sealing her lips with his and spinning them around, lifting her up and placing her on the altar and she crosses her ankles behind his back, pulling him closer. His hands move to the seam of her summer dress, pushing it up her thighs and she arches into him, allowing him to shove it up her legs, over her ass, until it's pooling around her middle and once he's done his hands move to her shoulders and pull the straps of her dress down, baring her bra-clad chest to him.

His mouth drops to the top of her breasts, peppering her skin with soft kisses. One of his hands cradles the back of her head, tugging on her hair so she tilts her head back, his other hand undoing her bra clasp - he manages to undo two of the three hooks at the same time but he has some trouble with the last one, one of her hands joins his and she helps him as he breaks away from her, a blush on his cheeks that's not there because he wants her - and _wanting_ her he does, she can feel the evidence pressing into her thigh.

"Having trouble, Jones?" she teases him softly, pressing her lips briefly to his to take his insecurity away from him.

"It's been a while, love," he admits, scratching the back of his ear while he watches her strip off her bra.

She smiles at him and leans back, so he can let his eyes roam over her properly.

"You're so beautiful, Emma," he murmurs, voice filled with awe and her smile grows wider as she pulls him back into her, her hand trailing down his upper body, following the path of hair past the waistband of his pants and she swiftly pops the button of his trousers and pulls the zipper down.

She cups him through his pants at first, feeling him hard and straining under her fingers before she slips her hands inside, her hand curling around his length and slowly pumping him.

"_Emma_," he groans, his head dropping to her shoulder.

Her name falls from his lips like a prayer and she never wants him to stop worshipping her name with that soft, accented voice of his, never wants him to stop admiring her because for now this is all she wants (and she doesn't want to think that this is _all_ she will ever get, because as hard as that sounds it's the truth, it's why she's here, she has nothing to lose).

"Killian, I need you," she whispers, tightening her grip around him and pulling him towards her gently, her other hand reaches between her legs and pulls her panties aside as she guides him towards where she needs him.

She feels him right _there_ only a thrust away and then he's pushing forward, filling her gently, inch by inch and she moans and arches into him, urging him to move inside of her. Her hands are clawing at his back as he finally starts to thrust into her.

His head is buried in the crook of her neck, lips pressed to her skin as he takes her but eventually he lifts his head up, peppering kisses along her neck, up to her cheek, to the corner of her mouth and then he's kissing her again and she moans into his mouth as his hand moves to her leg and he angles it up ever so slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and it's _just the right angle_, he hits _just the right spot_ and with that he pushes her closer and closer to paradise until she sees the heavenly gates open in front of her and for a moment she is right there, in paradise, with him by her side.

But paradise doesn't last for long, they come back down to earth far too quickly, falling from cloud nine and crashing down into reality and they are not just _them_ anymore, they are the girl next door and the priest-to-be again and _reality's a bitch_.

They both try to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed against each other, breath mingling and Emma moves one of her hands from his back to his neck, then to his cheek, tracing his shaven jaw line, admiring the softness of his skin. They both remain silent for some time before he tilts his head upwards, his nose bumping into hers.

"What changed your mind about staying away from me?" he finally asks and she sighs.

She has yet to make the second part of her confession and never in her life had something been so hard to say. He bumps his nose into hers once more and she doesn't want to let go of this - this is her personal heaven, it's with him, it's always been with him - but she can't have him.

"I'm moving to Boston in two days," she finally admits and he pulls away from her, a frown on his face.

"Why would you come to me then?" he asks and he sounds so _hurt_ she can practically feel the pain in his voice.

She laughs humorlessly, one of her hands skimming over his chest, fingers playing with the damp hair there. She doesn't dare to look into his eyes, her heart already breaking for what they just had but can never be.

"For a little taste of heaven," she murmurs, peeking up at him.

He turns his head and presses a soft kiss to her temple. She shuts her eyes, pain filling her features and there is nothing in this world or anywhere else she wants more than to be with him.

"If this is heaven then I never want to leave paradise," he tells her and she looks up at him, with tears in her eyes and a broken smile on her face.

"You're a poet and a sap," she chuckles.

He kisses the tip of her nose and his touch is so bittersweet that she wants to cry.

"And I'm going to lose you," he whispers.

The lump in her throat swells and she can't swallow past it, knows that reality is cruel so she says the only thing she knows is true and that will break them both.

"Can't lose something you never had."

He swallows hard and pulls out of her taking a few steps back, putting his pants back on and reaching for his shirt and collar, staring at it so angrily that she thinks he would burn it with his gaze if he could.

"That was downright cruel," he growls through gritted teeth.

She sighs and gets off of the altar, adjusting the cloth on it, a blush covering her cheeks and suddenly she feels so very dirty she's glad there's no mirror in the room because she couldn't look at herself right now so she puts her bra back on, straightens her dress and panties and turns back around to Killian who still glares at his collar furiously.

"Killian, it's the truth. I can never have you," she says, stepping closer to him and he finally looks away from the white collar.

The expression on his face is pained and broken.

"But I want you," he states stubbornly and Emma wants to laugh at him and point out that he acts like a child that doesn't get what he wants and in another life she would have made fun of him but this is here and now and no alternate universe and it's frustrating to no end.

So instead of laughing at him she only stares at him longingly.

"As I want you… But that doesn't change the fact that we can never be," she explains quietly, knowing that her voice would break if she tries to speak louder because this is goodbye.

She moves towards the door, unlocking it and she is ready to leave but again his voice stops her.

"I love you."

She turns around and looks over her shoulder, back at the seminarian who holds his clerical collar still in hand, holding it so tightly that it wrinkles.

"And I love you," she replies and when she meets his eyes she knows that this is it. This is the end, this is the final goodbye, she will most likely never see him again and her heart breaks and when she blinks, hot tears roll down her cheeks. "Goodbye, Killian."

"Goodbye, Emma."

The door to the sacristy falls shut behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

_(This is the last part, though there is going to be an epilogue, so stay tuned. Hope you enjoy!)_

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_._

**iii. and if you say we'll be alright I follow you into the light**

_seven months later_

"Moooooooom, everything's _fine_, I'm doing great, you have to stop worrying about me," Emma whines into her cell phone while she hurries down the corridor that leads to her sociology class.

"_But you're our little girl and-"_

"Mom, I told you. _Stop. Worrying_. Thing is, I had to be in class like five minutes ago and can I call you later?" she interrupts Mary Margaret Nolan as she rounds the corner and promptly bumps into someone, her grip on her cell loosening.

She can hear her mother's voice saying "_sure honey_" before her smart phone hits the ground and falls into pieces, battery cover and battery separating from the rest of the phone.

Emma immediately drops to her knees, muttering curses underneath her breath while she collects the cell phone's parts. When she reaches for the battery her fingers brush over someone else's hand and she realizes the person she just bumped into must have dropped to his knees to so she glances up and her lips part in surprise a strangled noise leaving her mouth.

The man right in front of her stares at her with wide blue eyes and she can't believe it, it's him.

"_Killian_," she finally breathes out and it is _ridiculous_ because she hasn't seen him in _seven months_ and her body still reacts like it always did whenever he's around.

Her heart stutters in her chest, her hands get sweaty and her breathing quickens as a swarm of butterflies comes back to life and starts to fly in her stomach.

He doesn't look like she remembers him - not exactly. His eyes are still of the same piercing blue and they look as warm and soft as ever but his usually shaven face isn't shaven anymore, there is a ginger scruff covering his face and he looks _good_ in it.

He stares at her in awe, his lips parted and he looks like he's staring at a ghost and she just _knows_ she looks exactly like him.

"_Emma_," he replies just as breathless.

"Wh-" she starts, still absolutely awestruck. "What are you doing here?"

She hasn't seen him in seven months and yet it feels like she's seen him just yesterday. And she can't believe how _relieved_ she is to see him again. It feels like the weight that has been crushing her for the past few months has finally been lifted from her shoulders and _she can't believe it's him_, she's missed him so much and now he's there, right in front of her and- her eyes flicker down to his throat, searching for the clerical collar but she doesn't find it.

"I-" he starts, rising to his feet in perfect sync with her.

With a shaking breath she takes the battery from his hand, her fingers brushing over his and _god_, how could she think she could _ever_ forget him when he is her _everything_? Her fingers lingering far longer than necessary but he doesn't pull away and she doesn't either, instead she craves for more and when her eyes flicker up to his again she feels her heart leaping in her throat because she can see the same longing in them.

It's funny how after all this time she hasn't see him, hasn't _talked_ to him she can still read him like an open book, that's why she doesn't understand what he's doing here.

She left Storybrooke for _him_, for _herself,_ for their _future_ because she thought the only way they could move on from each other was by staying away from one another. But it didn't work.

When she looks at him now she knows that nothing has changed. She still loves him and if she interprets the expression on his face right, _he_ still loves _her_,too.

Emma withdraws her hand slowly, forcing herself to remember the reason _why_ she has left - _because he will be a priest and he is not allowed to love him_ - and her eyes flicker back to his throat, noticing the missing white collar once more, wondering why it isn't there before she looks back into his eyes.

"Where's-" she mutters pointing to her own throat and he sighs, running one of his hands through his raven hair before he scratches his ear - _he's sheepish, why would he be sheepish?_ - and peeks at her.

"I'm not... A _seminarian_ anymore..." he murmurs and her eyes grow wide with surprise, understanding flooding her immediately.

"You- You're-" she stammers, her green eyes wide and incredulous.

He laughs and scratches his ear again.

"Well, aye," he finally confirms.

"_Why_? I hope it's not because of... what happened... between us because that's why I left and I don't- I didn't want to ruin-"

"Emma," he stops her rambling, placing his hands on her shoulders and she takes in a shaky breath, trying - but failing - to calm her racing heart. "It's not because of you."

She doesn't know if she's relieved or disappointed but some small part of her has _hoped_, has _wished_, that she would be the reason. It's selfish and wrong but she can't help it. She purses her lips and swallows hard, looking back up at him, shivering when she feels his thumps drawing small circles against her shoulders.

"At least not entirely," he adds quietly. "You just helped me realize that I don't really want to be a man of god."

Her lips part in surprise and she stares up at him, searching for a trace of dishonesty in his voice, in his eyes but she doesn't find them. He's not lying. He's telling the truth - _like always_.

Her heart is pounding uncontrollably in her chest again because this is what she never knew she wanted. Because _she_ didn't ruin him. She _helped_ him, in some weird and twisted kind of way.

"But why did you come here, to Boston?" she asks and she feels the hope spreading through her veins, hope that it's because of _her_, because he couldn't forget her either because there's not a day that has gone by she _didn't_ think of him.

"It's uhm-" he murmurs and tentatively lets go of her shoulders. "It's kind of a long story."

"I have time," she says and only when the words have left her mouth she realizes that she probably has said them too fast, too eagerly, but she doesn't really care. "Uhm, I'm, er, I'm living right 'round the corner and I have a _really_ good coffee maker so do you-?"

He stares at her for a few heartbeats and she really really hopes she didn't just make this awkward because he's here now and she doesn't intend to let him out of her sight any time soon. But then he blinks and a smile breaks out on his face and her gaze falls to his lips and remembers how they feel against hers and- _she really shouldn't think about that right now_.

"Only if you have crossword puzzles," he says with a smile and she heaves out a relieved breath, fumbling with her phone until it is one piece again.

"Then... Follow me."

She's not quite sure if she's just imagining things but she thinks she hears him say "_I'll follow you wherever you will go_" and it makes her heart stutter in her chest and heat rising in her cheeks because that sap didn't change at all.

.

.

The coffee is still steaming when Emma hands him the mug and then takes her own cup - the one with the hot chocolate, because Emma Nolan doesn't do coffee, it's too bitter for her taste - out of the microwave. She places it right beside her before she hops onto the kitchen counter.

Emma doesn't have to look to the side to know that he's watching her, apparently even after all this time without him she still has the ability to feel his eyes on her.

She picks her cup up and lifts it to her lips, the hot liquid burning her tongue and she curses, putting the cup back down and fanning her mouth.

Killian next to her laughs out loud before he places his mug next to hers and opens her fridge - she isn't surprised he knows where to find things (he's always been an acute observer) - and takes out the cooled bottle orange juice. He briefly meets her eyes and she reads the question in them - _glasses?_ - and points to the cupboard right above her head.

He reaches up and opens the cupboard, takes out one of her glasses and places it right next to her before he fills it with the juice.

She's frozen, unable to move because he doesn't even realize how close they are and _it's killing her_ because she feels like they didn't even properly said hello and he's only a few inches away from her and she wants to reach out and touch him, cover his face with soft kisses now that she _can_, now that it isn't forbidden anymore but she doesn't, she just continues to sit there and watch him.

"There," he says and finally looks up.

Her breath hitches in her throat as she pinpoints the exact moment he realizes that they are so close to each other. There is no sound, both of them holding their breaths as they stare at each other.

The tension is broken by one of Emma's neighbors who turns on his or her cd-player and both of them jump.

Killian clears his throat, scratching the back of his ear while he takes a step back and hands her the glass in his hand. She takes it from him without a second of hesitation and sticks her tongue in the cooling drink.

"You would think that a girl could handle her drinks after working in a diner for over two years," she mutters with pink cheeks when the pain in her tongue has mostly subsided.

"Maybe something distracted you," he teases her playfully but when his eyes meet hers all his friskiness is gone in an instant and she watches his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows hard.

"Maybe," she agrees quietly, picking up the orange juice again.

For a moment they stare at each other in silence before he takes one step back, then another and then turns around and walks through her apartment, taking in her furniture and decoration and she feels nervous.

"You've made yourself quite at home here, didn't you?" he asks as he picks up one of the framed pictures that stands on the dresser near the door.

It's one of her and her best friends Alexandra and Ruby, taken in the Granny's about one and a half year ago. Not long after that picture had been taken Emma's life had been turned upside down by the town's new priest and his little brother who turned her head around in less than a month.

She hops off of her kitchen counter and joins him in front of the dresses, standing close enough to let him feel her presence but not close enough to touch him.

"What did you expect after seven months?"

He shrugs, putting her picture back down before he turns to face her.

"I don't know. I just know that I missed you," he murmurs softly and this time she has to swallow the lump in her throat and suppress the tears that suddenly well up in her eyes because she has missed him too and she has missed him so so much, she doesn't know how to put it in words so she only turns her body towards his until they are standing chest to chest and face to face and she swears she can hear his heart beating just as quickly as hers.

"I missed you too," she finally replies breathily and then his hand reaches out and he grabs her wrist with one of his hands his other one coming to cup the back of her head and he pulls her into him, his lips coming crashing down on hers and she _whines_ into his mouth because this is what she needs, what she wants, what she _always_ wanted.

His lips move against hers with a familiarity that is almost painful because this feels _perfect_ and she returns the kiss with just as much passion, as much longing and craving he pours into it. She feels his hands move down, to the back of her thighs and he lifts her up and she wraps his legs around him, crossing her ankles behind his back and lets him carry her to her sofa.

Soon enough her back is pressed into the cushion of her couch and he is between her thighs, hovering above her while he kisses her with all he's got and everything he will ever have and it feels so _right_, so _perfect_ and it's not wrong anymore, _they_ are not wrong anymore so she pulls him closer, their lips moving against each other in perfect sync as she arches her back into him.

Her hands move to the back of his head, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck while she lets him savor her, cherish her and he doesn't have to say a word, she feels it, feels that he loves her with every fiber of his being and she just hopes that he can feel it too because yes, _yes_, she loves him too, of course she loves him too, she has never stopped, not for one second and even though she will never admit it she hasn't even tried not to love him, already knowing that it's impossible.

Eventually he breaks away from her, tightening his grip on her hips and pulling them into a sitting position, her straddling him, her knees on both sides of his thighs and she knows that they have to talk first before they continue whatever they just were doing (of course she knows what that was, she intends to continue this, to finish this but first there are a few things the two of them have to talk about).

"Killian, why are you here?" she asks softly, leaning her forehead against his as he runs his hands up and down her back.

"You know," he murmurs, tilting his head up and kissing her briefly but she withdraws from him (reluctantly, but she withdraws... eventually).

"I need to hear it. What happened while I was gone? Why are you _here_, in Boston?" she presses and he sighs, one of his hand slipping beneath her shirt and she shudders when he feels his cool fingers dancing over her stomach.

"I wanted to become a priest because Liam convinced me that god wanted us to survive the car crash, that it was our calling to become his man and spread his word and I believed him because why else would I still be alive? And then I met you."

He stops when she presses her lips to the corner of his mouth, her fingers scraping over his scalp and he inches his own hand higher until it rest right below her breast.

"I told Liam about you," he confesses his other hand slipping beneath her shirt too. "He said you were a trial and I couldn't fall victim to the temptation."

Killian leans forward, his lips touching her collar bone and he briefly nips on her skin, making her shiver again.

"He told me to stay away from you but I couldn't. I was- _am_ drawn to you like a moth to the flame and it doesn't matter what I do, I can't get you out of my head. And then the night at Granny's and the afternoon in the sacristy and _you know_, I already loved you but after that there was no return."

His hands inch higher, one of them slipping underneath her bra and she whimpers when his fingers skim over her flesh, his other hand undoing her bra clumsily but this time she doesn't need to help him.

"I tried to forget you, tried to continue after you were gone but I couldn't. I love you. And I don't think I will ever stop."

She surges forward, her lips meeting his and he kisses her back immediately, his arms wrapping around her back again and she rolls her hips into his and he groans as she breaks away from him.

"I love you too," she breathes and he kisses her again, hard and passionate this time and this time they won't stop, this time they will finish this.

They only break apart for them to shed their clothes that soon lie on a ground in a pile and then he is hovering above her again and she helps him join them. They move as one for some time before she presses her hands against his bare chest, pushing him back but following him until she is on top of him and writhing above him, moans and whispers spilling from her lips, as she rides him.

This time she wants to be the one that sends them to heaven and she is, both of them falling apart almost at the same time before they lie down on the couch bonelessly, his arms wrapped around her, their bodies still joined intimately, her head on his torso, ear pressed to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

His fingers dance over her back, drawing soft images into her skin, images of their future, of their paradise of what they will have, of what they won't let go and she can see it when she closes her eyes, can see them in a few years, happy, without worries. It won't be easy at first but they can make it because this is heaven and this time they don't have to leave.


	4. epilogue

_(This is it, the final piece, the end. I feel kinda sad because it was so much fun to write this but yep, this is it. Hope you enjoy!)_

_._

_._

**epilogue**

She wakes up to fingers brushing along her side, tingling her awake softly and she makes a noise between a muffled laughter and a groan, turning in his arms so they are lying face to face.

Her eyes are still closed when she feels his breath dancing over her lips before he presses his to her throat, peppering her skin with soft butterfly kisses, nuzzling her jaw, tickling her with his scruff and she giggles, cracking one of her eyes open.

"Good morning," he breathes and she scrunches up her nose as his morning breath hits her. "_Ugh, Killian_," she complains and he chuckles, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Sorry, love, only human, remember?" he smirks and she grimaces before she tilts her head, her lips melting into his.

He kisses her softly, _sweetly_ and she feels her heart stuttering in her chest, feels how his hand moves from her side to her back, pulling her closer, feels how he turns until he's lying on his back, with her on top of him. While her hands move to cup his face, his other hand moves to her thigh, pulling it over his hips until she's straddling him.

Emma breaks away from his lips, touching his forehead with hers, opening her eyes again. He smiles up at her radiantly, like she is the most beautiful thing in the world, like she is everything he ever wanted. And it makes her heart skip a beat when she realizes that, to him, _she is_.

"Good morning," he whispers and she smiles before she pulls her face up to hers, sealing his lips with a kiss that quickly turns from soft to heated and passionate in less than a few seconds.

He parts his lips, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth and she moans, her body reacting on its own, her hips rolling into his on their own accord and he lets go of her lip as he opens his mouth, a low groan escaping her throat.

"_Emma_," he breathes and she smirks down at him, rolling her hips one more time and he grunts, hands flying from her back to her hips, fingers digging into her skin. "You're going to be the death of me."

"I intend to have some fun with you before you die, Jones," he smirks and this time he is the one who rocks his hips into hers, causing her to fall forward and kiss him again with a soft whimper.

He takes the hem of her large sleeping t-shirt in his hands and pulls it upward and she breaks away from him, allowing him to pull off her top. When she leans down to kiss him again she feels his arousal brush over core and her desire doubling until it's almost unbearable. But then again it's not, because she knows he is the one who will eventually bring her the release she craves for.

He flips them over with a thrust of his hips and then she's lying on her back, with him hovering above her, her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing behind his back and he kisses her harder than before, making her arch into him while he stifles her moans with his mouth.

Her hands wander from his face, down his upper body before they settle on the waistband of the sweatpants he sleeps in.

She is about to shove them down when the door bell rings and they break apart, frowning at each other.

"Are you expecting someone?" he asks, his voice low and filled with desire.

"I- No, I'm not." She briefly pauses, frown deepening. "Are you?"

He furrows his brows.

"Why should they come _here_?"

Emma chuckles before she briefly pecks him, smiling up at him brightly.

"Because you basically live here."

"I don't," he denies, wearing the same smile on his lips.

"You do," she grins, leaning up to peck him briefly.

The door bell rings again and Killian sighs, rolling down from her and she swears underneath her breath - _"Jesus fucking Christ"_ - making him pinch her side lightly because he might be just a man now but he still believes in god and he isn't particularly fond those curses. Emma only rolls her eyes and reaches for her shirt, pulling it over her head before she gets out of bed, quickly putting on some socks before she makes a bee-line for the interphone next to the door.

"Hello?" she asks, making a half turn when she hears Killian's footsteps right behind her.

He snakes his arms around her waist, his lips descending on her neck and she suppresses a throaty moan.

"_Emma. It's us!_"

Her mouth falls open and she feels Killian freeze before she turns to face him and they continue to stare at each other for a few seconds before Emma can find it herself to answer her mother.

"Mom, dad, what are you doing here?" she inquires almost harshly.

She can feel the color drain from her face, feels panic taking a hold of her because they don't know about Killian and her, they don't even know that she has a boyfriend_ and there is no way out of the building, they have to pass each other __**and goddammit.**_

"_We were around so we decided to visit_," her father says nonchalantly and Emma arches one eyebrow, scrunching up her nose.

"You were "around"," she states skeptically. "So you couldn't call or anything?"

"_No. We wanted to surprise you, aren't you gonna let us- Oh wait, it's one of your neighbors, she'll let us up - thank you, Miss - we'll be up in a minute, Emma!"_

The blond disconnects the interphone call and turns around to face Killian again.

"They gonna kill us. First me, then you, and then me again."

He's leaning against her kitchen counter, his face just as pale as hers. She can see him shaking slightly and she knows she must be too because she can feel her heart leaping in her throat and her heart beating furiously in her chest and _god_, she's so nervous.

"They won't. They love you too much for that. But _your father_ will have _no problem_ with killing me."

She laughs - it sounds nervous, but it's a laugh - and steps closer to him, cupping his face.

"I won't let this happen."

He lifts his hands, placing them over hers and sighs.

"What are we going to do?" he sighs and she sighs too.

"We have to tell them. I don't want to hide," she murmurs.

He drops his head to hers until their foreheads are touching.

"I don't want to hide either," he agrees softly, bumping his nose into hers.

"So we tell them?"

He nods but when there is a knock on the door all of their confidence falters and they exchange a quick gaze before he storms towards the bed room while Emma moves towards the front door. They quickly exchange another glance and he shuts one door while she opens the other.

"Emma!" her mother smiles the moment the door swings open.

Not a moment later Emma feels two arms wrapping around her and her mother embraces her tightly.

"It's so good to see you!" Mary Margaret breathes in her ear and Emma smiles, still very nervously, but it's a genuine smile nonetheless.

"You too," she replies, breaking away from her mother to hug her father instead.

When her dad finally lets go off her - after holding her in his arms and cradling her head like he always does - Emma clears her throat.

"Why don't you- Why don't you come in?"

They enter her apartment and for the moment Emma closes the door behind the three of them she feels okay, but then her gaze falls on the closed bed room door and her heart drops into her gut.

"Emma, hun, you don't mind me using your bathroom, do you?" her mother asks, running one of her hands through her short black hair.

"Of course I don't," she smiles.

Her mother walks into her bath room while David settles on the kitchen counter just like Killian has done before.

"So, you are doing okay?" David asks, smiling openly at his daughter.

"I am doing _fine_ and you _know_ that because you call me at least _once_ a week. So why are you really here?" the blond replies, turning on the coffee maker, taking almost taking four mugs before she remembers that her parents don't know about Killian - _who is hiding in their bed room, bloody hell, her life's still messed up_ - so she reaches past Killian's mug and takes out two different coffee mugs.

She's just about to fill the cups with the fresh coffee when he mother comes back from the bathroom, a frown on her face.

"Mom? Everything alright?"

Still frowning Mary Margaret looks up from the floor and at her twenty-year old daughter.

"Why do you have two toothbrushes in your bathroom? And an after shave - _for men_?" she asks and Emma blushes, running one of her hands over her face. "Is there anything you haven't told us, Emma Ruth Nolan?"

The blond grimaces at her full name, tilting her head back with a sigh.

"_Fine_. I have a boyfriend. Happy?" she grumbles.

When she tilts her head back her father is standing right in front of her, his arms crossed in front of his chest. She quickly looks around for her mother and finds her walking torwards her bed room.

"I suppose when I open this door I will find your boyfriend's clothes too?" Mary Margaret asks, pursing her lips.

"Mom, don't-" Emma starts but the woman with the pixie hair cut ignores her and opens the door anyways.

Relief washes over Emma when she doesn't see Killian immediately but she should know better.

"Hello, Mrs. Nolan," a smooth, accented voice says and out of the shadows of her bed room steps Killian - fully clothed, thank the lord.

"_Killian Jones_," her mother practically hisses, her gaze flickers from Emma to Killian and then back again. "You- You and _him_, Emma, _what on earth_?" she growls.

Emma glances over at her father whose features are indecipherable before she looks back at Killian who's scratching the back of his ear sheepishly, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

"Am I right when I assume that you're with him for quite some time now?" David asks calmly - too calmly - and Emma immediately tenses.

She knows that tone - it's the same one her father had used the day she had brought her first boyfriend back home - and it certainly does not bode well for anybody.

"I- I've been seeing him for three months now," she admits in a small voice and watches David clench his jaw.

"And before then? Back in Storybrooke when he was a seminarian?" he inquires.

"We weren't seeing each other then," Killian cuts in, stepping out of the bedroom and moving towards Emma.

He isn't lying - but he's not telling the truth either but Emma is more than thankful for that, she really doesn't want her parents to know about that one time at the diner or in the sacristy.

"Emma?" he mother growls.

"It's the truth," Emma replies with an exhausted sigh. "Though I _did_ have feelings for him," she adds as an afterthought - maybe that would make this a little bit more believable.

"And you?" David asks Killian.

"Your daughter is one of the reasons I abandoned my studies," he confesses, now merely a few steps away from Emma.

He reaches out for her and she immediately takes his hand in hers, their fingers entwining on their own accord. Mary Margaret watches the intimate gesture with narrow eyes, exchanging a quick glance with her husband who looks like he is about to throw a punch at Killian.

"Emma, we'll just go," her mother says, taking David's hand in hers and pulling him towards the front door. "The next time we'll call."

"Bye," Emma yells after them but the door is already falling shut behind them.

They stand there frozen for another few seconds, holding hands, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the back of her hand.

"That went... just... fine," Emma finally breaks the silence, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"At least they didn't kill either one of us," he says and Emma sighs.

"If mom didn't stop him, dad would have punched you," Emma mumbles and Killian sighs, pulling her closer until she is wrapped up in his arms.

"But he didn't." He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, trying to ease her frown. "It will all work out eventually."

This time Emma sighs, snuggling closer to him.

"How can you have so much faith?" she whispers before she abruptly lifts her head from his chest and glares up at him. "You were going to be a priest of course you have faith."

He laughs, his hands traveling from her waist to her face and he leans down and kisses her softly. She reluctantly returns his kiss, her mind still occupied with the recent events, but when he lifts her on top of the kitchen counter, lips pressing against hers insistently she can't help but get caught up in his kisses, his caresses and she wraps her arms around his neck, crossing her ankles behind his back and he lifts her up again, carrying her towards the bedroom. She breaks away from his lips to frown at him, a soft smile on her lips.

"What are you doing?" she whispers and he smirks up at her before he drops her to the bed unceremoniously.

"Celebrating that we're still alive." he replies before he joins her on the bed.

Even though she has never been particularly religious in this moment she thanks every deity she knows for making this man hers because every time he presses his lips against hers her worries fade away more and more until she doesn't even remember them.

Hours later, after they are both sated and exhausted Emma notices the blinking of her phone that signals that she has a message. With Killian's arm wrapped around her she unlocks the screen, a smile spreading across her lips as she reads her mother's message.

_As long as you're happy, we are happy too, even if we don't approve of your choice YET_.


End file.
